When the Bough Breaks
by maritje
Summary: A stranger arrives in Seattle. It can only mean trouble, right? ML forever
1. Home, Sweet Home

**Disclaimer: **_All things Dark Angel belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee. No copyright infringement intended. Blah, blah, woof, woof_

**Spoilers: **_occurs after "Freak Nation"_

**Rating: **_PG-13 for some swearing and possible dark/adult situations that may arise later, but likely to be quite tame. _

**Summary: **_The arrival of a stranger in Seattle can only mean trouble, right? _

**Authors Note: **_OK guys, this is my first ever attempt at Dark Angel Fiction, hell, I'll admit it, I am a total fanfiction virgin. Be Gentle ; -)_

_Some ideas later on in the story may be familiar from other DA fanfics. I am not trying to rip anyone off! I would give specific thanks or ask permission but I have no idea where they might be from. I've read so many now that my ideas are all intertwined with them, and I couldn't differrentiate. So if you read something that seems like it was taken straight out of your fanfic, take it as the compliment that it is, to your great skill as writer, that it has lodged itself in my head._

_Oh yeah, MAX AND LOGAN FOREVER!!!!!_

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Weak sunlight filtered through the filth of the large windows, casting an eerie gloom through the deserted apartment. Debris scattered the floor, a jumbled confusion of shattered art remains and computer equipment. A thick lining of dust covered the wreckage, like a dandelion clock, measuring time with each layer of grime.

The remnants of the redwood front door lay askew on its frame.

CRASH!!

The door had apparently given up any pretence at continuing its' function.

Artificial light spilled in from the hallway, backlighting the darkened figure standing in the doorway.

"_Home, Sweet Home_" snorted the shadowed silhouette.

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**A/N; **I know, I know. It's really short guys, but think of the dramatic impact. Kinda like a teaser, I suppose. Don't worry though, got the first 7 chapters written already; some short for quick read, others a bit longer. Hope my style doesn't put you off. Do you think it would work better as longer chapters but with scene breaks in them? Open to any suggestions.


	2. Watched

**Disclaimer: **_All things Dark Angel belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee. No copyright infringement intended. Blah, blah, woof, woof_

**Spoilers: **_occurs after "Freak Nation"_

**Rating: **_PG-13 for some swearing and possible dark/adult situations that may arise later, but likely to be quite tame. _

**Authors Note:**_ Next installment. Sorry, quite short again. Hang in there though._

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Across the street in an empty office in the adjacent building, two grey suits observed the scene in the penthouse apartment unfolding. The static of a radio called out as one of the men spoke into the receiver.

"Agent White, this is Agent Zuker here. We have movement in the apartment. Repeat, we have movement in the apartment. We await your instructions, over"

A brief moment of silence followed, building the tension in the room, before the radio crackled into life once more.

"Elaborate Agent Zuker. Over", was the curt reply.

"One target, sir. Female. Small to medium build. Dark hair, long. Over."

"Back-up team is on its way. I will be co-ordinating this one myself. Hold your position and keep on full alert. White, out."


	3. Agent White of the FBI

**Disclaimer: **_All things Dark Angel belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee. No copyright infringement intended. Blah, blah, woof, woof_

**Spoilers: **_occurs after "Freak Nation"_

**Rating: **_PG-13 for some swearing and possible dark/adult situations that may arise later, but likely to be quite tame. _

**Authors Note:**_ O.K. a little bit longer now. Tell me what you think so far?_

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A Black Ops team entered Fogle Towers and ascended to the penthouse with surprising quietness. Agent White, his gun drawn in readiness, slunk like the serpent that he was along the wall toward the open doorway. His acute hearing could detect the light movements of the young woman around the apartment, occasionally stopping to move some debris or pick up some item.

_What are you looking for, 452?' _he thought as he signalled to his men and slipped through the door. Creeping carefully around the obstacles littering the floor, White moved towards where he new she'd be found. Stepping silently up behind her crouched form, still rummaging amongst the debris, he placed his gun behind her head, breaking his stealth with the cruel sound of his weapon being cocked. She stilled immediately.

"Don't even think about it 452, this time I have the advantage! Now, turn around with your hands up. Slowly!" White exclaimed, smugness dripping off his words as a sick smile spread across his features.

She stood carefully, her arms rising halfway in surrender, turning slowly to face him.

White's smile plastered his face, but his eyes belied the change before it was apparent. His smile slid to reveal barely restrained anger and frustration.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!" he screamed, mustering his authority to convey his control, despite feeling he had precious little right now.

The girl looked straight into his eyes, clearly pissed, and with surprisingly no fear at having a gun pointed blank at her head.

"That's ma line! What the fuck is going on!" she spat back, her unusual accent adding to White's growing confusion.

"ANSWER THE QUESTION! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!" White shot back, his anger now reigned in and control taking command once more, though his shouting informed his team (which had since flanked him, their weapons raised), that he was seriously displeased.

The elevator doors chose that moment to open with their completely inappropriate bright "ding". Building security surged out into the hallway before coming to an abrupt stop. They had been prepared for an attack of some sort, perhaps shooting. Hell, anything was possible when they were called to the penthouse. Instead they were greeted by the quite absurd sight of an apartment full of heavily armed official-looking men, their weapons all trained on an innocent looking young girl.

The building manager, his gold name tag proclaiming him to be a Mr. Roy Croft, pushed through his security force to see exactly what was going on. He stopped briefly to take in the scene, before heading over to stand by the young woman. He looked indignantly over at the man who appeared to be in command, and who was currently pointing a gun at the girls' head, summoning all his authority and pomposity into demanding,

"What is going on here? Who are you and what are you doing in Miss McKenzie's apartment?"

White's stance had relaxed a little by now and his gun had lowered as he had evaluated the current situation and felt there was no threat. However, he was severely pissed off now. He had not come upon X5-452 as he had expected, and instead appeared to be disadvantaged by his lack of information, something which he abhorred.

He flipped out his credentials in a blur of movement as he sought to re-assert his command.

"Agent White, FBI. This apartment is under surveillance as part of an ongoing criminal investigation." he barked as way of explanation.

Mr. Croft sighed and let his eyes roll briefly to the ceiling before returning his gaze at Agent White.

_Same old chestnut' _he thought before replying, "Ah, Agent White. Mr. Cale is no longer a resident at Fogle Towers, he has not been so for some weeks now and the property has been sold to Miss McKenzie.


	4. You've got mail

**Disclaimer: **_All things Dark Angel belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee. No copyright infringement intended. Blah, blah, woof, woof_

**Spoilers: **_occurs after "Freak Nation"_

**Rating: **_PG-13 for some swearing and possible dark/adult situations that may arise later, but likely to be quite tame. _

**Authors Note:**_ Finally, I hear you cry, we actually get to a main character. Stay with me guys, cos it's more difficult to write Max and Logan. I think it's because staying faithful to them is daunting, so they might change slightly from your perception of them, but not wildly so, I hope. Max will be along in a while. _

**A/N 2: **_A little explanation. Tried to keep format pretty simple. Actual thoughts will be written in italics without parenthesis(?), and will be fairly freeform to reflect thought process, jumping off at tangents. RR to tell me if you think this works._

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**The week before**

Logan scanned his e-mails absently, day-dreaming of Max, of the brief warmth he had felt in holding her gloved hand in his as the Transgenics raised their flag that cold dawn morning. He was startled from his reverie by a message from his lawyer.

"I wonder what Larry wants?" he muttered absent-mindedly to himself as he opened up the message.

_**Logan,**_

_**Tried to contact you at the apartment but couldn't get a hold of you. Instead, I hear from Croft, that you are no longer a resident there. Is this true? You know, you really should tell me things like this, I am a friend as well as your lawyer.**_

_**Anyway, are you considering selling your apartment? I know you said no before but since you're not going to be there from now on...circumstances might have gotten worse? God knows, you can't have that much more in the way of artwork to sell.**_

_**I have a contact, a Miss McKenzie, who might be interested. Actually, you two have a mutual acquaintance in common I think. Remember Professor Griffiths from Yale? **_

_**It's worth checking out at least. I've included the number so you can speak to her yourself. If you decide in the affirmative, get back to me to so we can go over the details.**_

_**Hell, get back to me in any case, I'd like to know you're still alive!**_

_**Larry**_

Logan thought about it. He was really strapped for cash, that was undeniable. His apartment was a complete wreck, and he couldn't use it again as it was probably being watched round the clock by White's goons. But at the same time, he didn't want to part with it. That's why he'd said no before. It held some great memories, some not so great ones too, come to think of it. It was Max, though. That's where he'd first met her, where they had shared so many diners together, where they'd kissed, where they almost...But sentimental memories didn't pay the bills, or more accurately, fund Eyes Only and the transgenic cause. No harm in calling her anyway, he thought as he picked up his cell phone and headed out to find somewhere with better reception.

"Hello"

"Hello, is that Miss McKenzie. This is Logan Cale, Laurence Wilson contacted me. I heard you were looking for an apartment in Seattle."

"Oh, yes that's right, Mr Cale. I am. Looking for a quiet place to get lost from the world for a while, you know?"

"I wouldn't exactly call Seattle quiet, especially not at the moment." Logan replied with a smile, thinking the phrase a little odd.

He heard the pleasant laughter of the woman on the line before she answered,

"Well, perhaps not, but I guess its all relative. Tell me, do you know of a place that might interest me? I would prefer an apartment with a nice view, preferably fairly isolated. I'm afraid I like my solitude at times." her voice sparkled with warmth and Logan immediately felt a connection with her. He was intrigued, not least by her accent.

"Actually, my apartment is a Penthouse suite. It has the a great view, reason I bought the place myself. But, I no longer live there." He sighed almost imperceptibly at that, but the woman noticed it all the same.

"I am sorry. Times are hard." she stated simply.

"Yes"

"Well, I must admit that Laurence did wax lyrical over your place and I would be happy to take it if that would seem acceptable to you. Or, I could rent, if you'd prefer." she hastily added, judging he might be reluctant to part with the apartment which obviously meant something more than just place to live to him.

Logan felt the hidden meaning behind the suggestion and appreciated the subtle kindness of the woman. He suddenly recalled Larry referring to his old collage professor and became curious as to how Miss McKenzie came into the picture.

"I understand we have a common acquaintance, Miss McKenzie. Professor Griffiths?"

There was a slight pause.

"Yes, that's right. He was....sort of an uncle, you could say. He passed away some time ago now", she stated briefly, attempting to sound detached.

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that, he was a great mentor of mine from college, I've always regretted losing touch with him after he went back to England", mentally kicking himself for sounding so cold, so artificial, God, just like Jonas.

"That's ok, Mr Cale, it was a long time ago now."

He felt her shut down, gone was the friendly banter of mere seconds ago. _'Great, she thinks you're a completely unfeeling, fucking idiot! I got one shot'_

"Please, call me Logan". It was trite, he knew it. Still, hopefully he managed to get his real sympathy across, his apology.

It worked, he could almost hear her smile as she answered.

"Well Logan, I guess you'd better call me Meridian then. How do you want to do this? Should we meet or something?"

"Ah, that might be difficult. I think we'll have to do this through Larry if that's ok."

"Sure, no problem. Listen I gotta go, I got another call. Can I ring you back?"

"Sure, anytime", was all Logan could reply before the she hung up.

_That was abrupt. Wait, Meridian? Meridian McKenzie? Why is that name familiar to me? Maybe old Griff mentioned her to me. And was I being too friendly, flirting with her? God, I hope it didn't sound like that. Max. Beautiful, wonderful Max! My Angel. How could I flirt when there's Max. Except there isn't, is there. You can't even touch her, and she doesn't even want you! She wants Alec! Why the fuck would she want you!_

_But she let me hold her hand, she smiled at me. And I haven't seen them together, thank God, but then I have been avoiding them. For Christ's sake Logan, pull your self together, you've got work to do._

With that Logan pulled himself from his thoughtful reverie and wandered off to help Dix with the computer systems.

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	5. My weapon of choice?

**Disclaimer: **_All things Dark Angel belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee. No copyright infringement intended. Blah, blah, woof, woof_

**Spoilers: **_occurs after "Freak Nation"_

**Rating: **_PG-13 for some swearing and possible dark/adult situations that may arise later, but likely to be quite tame. _

**Authors Note:**_ How do you like my intro?_

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Previously on Dark Angel.....

_**He flipped out his credentials in a blur of movement as he sought to re-assert his command.**_

"_**Agent White, FBI. This apartment is under surveillance as part of an ongoing criminal investigation." he barked as way of explanation.**_

_**Mr. Croft sighed and let his eyes roll briefly to the ceiling before returning his gaze at Agent White.**_

_**Same old chestnut' he thought before replying, "Ah, Agent White. Mr. Cale is no longer a resident at Fogle Towers, he has not been so for some weeks now and the property has been sold to Miss McKenzie.**_

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The young woman was shooting daggers at White. Her impertinance riled him, typical of those snooty rich socialites who thought they were above it all. He knew different, of course. He smiled at that. This seemed to piss her off further. Perfect.

"That as may be, however, Cale is a terrorist, and we have to cover every possibility. How exactly did you come by this apartment?", he shot unapologetically at the girl. She visably bristled, just as he hoped she would.

"I really don't think that's any of your concern", she replied, haughtily.

"I really rather think it is. Perhaps you are involved with this criminal? It might be necessary to interrogate you downtown?", he sneered menacingly, making a point of just how much power he could wield over her.

She made to reach into her inside jacket pocket, at which White drew his gun up with lightning speed, followed by the punctuated sound of the Ops team re-arming their weapons once more. Her face was a mixture of innocent disbelief at their incredible over-reaction as she continued to pull out her cellphone.

She flipped the display open in a fluid movement before hitting speed dial.

"Hey there Artie, sweetie.....Yeah, baby, of course...who else?....Not so hot actually...One of your boys is bothering me.....White I think...I just moved into my new apartment and then this happens.......You know I don't need this right now, sugar.....thanks, you're a star!...Say hi to Martha and the kids for me, 'kay....bye Artie.."

With that she tossed the phone at White, a disconcerting smile playing across her features. White snapped the phone to his ear, glaring at the phone's owner fit to incinerate her.

"Who is this!" he gruffly clipped into the receiver, before his demeanour abruptly reversed, though leaving visible evidence of his utter displeasure. "Yes, sir......I understand, but....No, sir.....of course....immediately....". With that he threw the phone back, turned on his heel, barked at his men and strode forcefully from the apartment.

The whole thing would have been much more impressive had it not been for the thirty or so Black Ops attempting to leave as promptly all at once. An embarrassing moment ensued as they tried to squeeze through what remained of the doorway, and past building security, not wanting to displease their commander any more than was obviously the case.

Finally, Mr Croft turned his attention once more to Miss McKenzie. She looked suddenly weary, staring absently at the doorway.

"I'll send someone up immediately to repair the door Miss McKenzie. I must apologise profusely for this intrusion, please believe it will not happen again", he glanced around the wreckage of the apartment and added, "I can send some people to clear this mess as well".

"That's not necessary, I'll have my own people see to it tomorrow. I would however, appreciate a door this evening if at all possible." She turned and wandered off in search of the bedroom. Mr Croft understood that he had been dismissed. It did not bother him in the slightest. He was a terrible snob and prided himself on the various important personages he cared for in his building. He had never really liked Mr Cale, but then, he was Mr Cale, of the Seattle Cales. But Miss McKenzie! To have such a celebrity of worldwide renown in his building! On that ecstatic note, he bounced into the elevator and left.

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	6. A little downtime

**Disclaimer: **_All things Dark Angel belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee. No copyright infringement intended. Blah, blah, woof, woof_

**Spoilers: **_occurs after "Freak Nation"_

**Rating: **_PG-13 for some swearing and possible dark/adult situations that may arise later, but likely to be quite tame. _

**Authors Note:**_ I think this chapter's a little weak. I don't think Meridian's "voice" is quite right yet._

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The air was crisp and fresh, rain having ceased only a short time before. The night was dark, and it called to her. She gunned her bike through the streets, controlling it with ease despite the slick surface of the roads. She ended up outside what appeared to be some sort of club. Load music pulsed from the doorway.

_This is what I need. To get lost in a crowd, to forget for a while._

Original Cindy, Sketchy and some of the Jam Pony crew were celebrating their recent escapades at their usual spot in Crash. Original Cindy was glad to be out of Terminal City, away from the toxic pollutants and some of the more aggressive transgenics, but she was worried about Max, and, dammit, she missed her boo. She glanced over at Sketchy, he had been regaling anyone who would listen about his adventures for some hours, and was now so smashed he was barely propped up against the table.

_Gilligan gonna pass out any minute. And this girl ain't goin near that fool. Hell, Sky can take his sorry ass home. _

Cindy scanned the room, looking for any candy that caught her eye. An old Beyonce track came on, and as the rhythmic soft backbeat of Me, Myself & I pumped through the room, Cindy watched as a girl sashayed down the stairs, weaving with the music around the crowd, heading toward the bar. She moved like she owned the place, leaving stunned guys in her wake.

_Original Cindy finally found a lickity chick worthy of her attention. Damn, girl is fine! Wonder if she an all girl all-star? _

She watched intently as the girl blew off some loser male, thinking that either way the girl had class. Her deep brunette waves cascaded down her back, a suggestion of reddish tones glinting under the lights. Her skin was milk-white. Original Cindy wasn't sure she'd seen skin as creamy as that before, flawless. The girl turned, her eyes roaming without purpose across the room. That was all Cindy waited for.

"Hey girl"

"Hey", the girl replied, her accent immediately catching Cindy's attention.

"Original Cindy thinkin' you must be new in town, an' that calls for a drink. What's your label boo?"

"Thanks. It's Meridian. I guess I'm that obvious, huh?"

"Nah girl, just when you open your sweet mouth", she answered with a seductive smile as she handed Meridian a beer.

"Sugar, you so fine you could tempt me" came the soft reply.

Cindy smiled, so girl didn't swing her direction, there was something about her. She reminded her a little of Max, and she seemed to sparkle.

"Well, since you new an' all, let Original introduce you to her crew. You play pool?"

"Maybe", Meridian replied coyly.

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"Girl, ain't no maybe bout it! You on fire!", Original Cindy exclaimed in awe. It earned her another soft blush from Meridian.

"Da-amn girl, how'd you do that?", she inquired. Meridian cocked an eyebrow at her and smiled in confusion.

"What chica?"

"You lookin' so dam hot the buildin' be in danger of combustin, but all innocent and pure like the driven snow." This compelled a snort from the other side of the table.

"Honey, I hate to be the one to tell you, but driven snow ain't all that pure", Meridian smirked.

_Yeah_, thought Original Cindy, _that's EXACTLY the right metaphor for her. She's deceptive. But not really deceitful. I don't know why, But I kinda want to just trust her implicitly. God, am I special or somethin'. Original Cindy seen some crazy shit in her life already, enough to know that a girl don't go handin' her trust out like candy._

Original Cindy's thoughtful reverie was abruptly interrupted at this point by the rude collision of Sketchy into her personal space. His toxic fuelled breath assaulted her as he remarked lewdly on her new companion, before bringing her evening to a decided end by decorating her shoes with the contents of his stomach.

"Sometimes I hate my life", Cindy muttered as she waved good-bye to Meridian before dragging Sketchy's miserable ass home.

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**A/N:**_ By the way, trying to write this when there are joiners in knocking massive holes in the wall next door to you, not good for creative flow, people! Also their taste in radio not the best for feelin the theme_


	7. Back at the ranch

**Disclaimer: **_All things Dark Angel belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee. No copyright infringement intended. Blah, blah, woof, woof_

**Spoilers: **_occurs after "Freak Nation"_

**Rating: **_PG-13 for some swearing and possible dark/adult situations that may arise later, but likely to be quite tame. _

**Authors Note:**_ So, this is as far as I have gotten at the moment. How do you feel it's going? Or isn't it? Please review to give some confidence to keep going. Thank you!_

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Logan stared at the computer screen unseeing. His vision began to swim. His head pounded like a jack hammer in his ears, suddenly making him feel nauseous. Dix was leaning over his shoulder, gazing intently at the program that Logan was running. He felt trapped, had to get out.

"I've been at this too long, I'm gonna take a walk and get some fresh air."

With that, Logan clumsily got to his feet and made his way towards the Atrium. A little unsteady on his feet, Logan focussed on the doorway to the outside. It felt like an age before he slumped his weight forward to escape the stifling pressure bearing down upon him. Cold air burned like ice on his skin, he staggered towards the reassuring stability of a stone bench.

Collapsing heavily down, his head lolled forward into his hands. Despite the darkness that his eyes had sought, flashing colours exploded behinds his weary lids. Suddenly the world dissolved into blackness as he felt himself falling into a dark abyss.

Joshua had watched Logan's odd demeanour from his quiet corner in the Atrium. His reflective quiet had left him as he watched Logan's shaky progress. Sniffing cautiously, Joshua was overwhelmed by scents of confusion, fear and sickness. Quickly getting to his feet, he called out as he approached only to break into super-speed as he watched his friend pitch forward toward a twisted, evil-looking metal fragment.

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Dah-duh-daahh! To Be Continued........

I know, v. corny.


	8. Into Oblivion

**Disclaimer: **_All things Dark Angel belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee. No copyright infringement intended. Blah, blah, woof, woof_

**Spoilers: **_occurs after "Freak Nation"_

**Rating: **_PG-13 for some swearing and possible dark/adult situations that may arise later, but likely to be quite tame. _

**Summary: **_The arrival of a stranger in Seattle can only mean trouble, right? _

**Authors Note: **_Please forgive me! Hey, I know I promised you something in January, and that totally didn't happen,but I'm not gonna give you any excuses anymore. It was my bad. Kudos to those writers out there who manage to update frequently amidst their busy lives. I really don't know how you manage it, I wish I could._

_Anyway, so here, finally is an update. One short chapter, and a much longer one to follow. Please keep reviewing to tell me how you like it. I appreciate the critique._

_Happy Valentines everyone!_

_-_

Dawn came to Seattle in a subtle lightening of the heavy oppressive grey that hung low over the city. The weather seemed to have exhausted its repertoire of actual meteorology and had settled upon wet mist that soon clung and soaked all that it touched. The skyline had taken a vacation, leaving Terminal City an island in a fog of oblivion.

Max gazed down over Terminal City, staring unseeingly into the misty void. It seemed deserted and still. Her mouth quirked at that thought. TC was far from that. It had become a Mecca for transgenics; the population growing steadily all the time, with those who had sneaked past the impenetrable siege that Seattle Police and the National Guard had established, and the occasional end result of the breeding program. She was also secure in the knowledge that the perimeter was well guarded despite all appearances, having given the orders herself to ensure that any of White's goons or even just a cop with enough initiative could take advantage of the situation.

She chuckled, in a very un-leader like manner, as she remembered Alec's face when she had assigned him point duty.

Just as suddenly as it appeared, all the mirth vanished from her. Thinking of Alec inevitably brought her back to the fact she was using him to separate herself from Logan. Her heart tightened as it always did when it came to Logan.

_I miss him, even though he refused to leave, we've avoided each other so much it's as if he had gone. He ought to have left with Sketchy and my girl._

_Idiot! Doesn't he know he could die in here, it's not like he's immune to whatever toxins those scientists cooked up that made this a no-go area in the first place. That and if I ever accidentally touch him, it's all over. It's not like we have Medicare in here. Hell, we've barely scraped together enough band-aids to cover a kindergarten recess. I don't want to think what we would do if this turned into an all-out war._

_God, it's so hard. Seeing him, but not letting myself go and see him. It hurts so much to ignore him. Pretending to not see him, be involved in some tactical emergency. Having to live the lie in front of him. Doesn't he know what's it like to have him here still._

_Of course he does, coz every time I catch his eyes, they're full of pain. Why does he insist on torturing the both of us!_

_Stop it Max, you're being unfair, you're the one who created this situation. Logan's only doing what he always has, looking out for you. All because he loves you._

_Love. What is it anyway? I'm not sure that I know, or that I can ever have that. I wasn't created to love so how could I? But then why does it hurt so much? Maybe that's what love really means; heartache, pain and sorrow. Maybe Zack was right about all that phoney sentimentality._

_Except that's what we're in here fighting for. The right to live, to love, to exist._

_Why does my life always have to be such a drama? Why can't I, just for once, catch a break? 'Cause this is my life we're talkin about! _

_Someone once said, the things you have to work for hardest, are the things that are most worthwhile. Not that I'm dissin' hav'n to work for stuff. Just that sometimes, I don't know, it'd be nice to have things work out in that fairytale ending. _

_Fuck! I know better than that, there are no fairytale endings; not for me, not for Logan, not for anyone. _

A strange tingling sensation began to prick Max's skin, as if the wind had suddenly changed, had there been any. Her skin became a flush of goose-bumps as a feeling of dread settled heavy in her stomach. She felt nauseous, her inner ramblings long forgotten at the sudden recollection that this felt horrifically familiar.

_Oh God! Logan!_

Stumbling, Max ran from her quiet eerie as she battled to get her limbs under control. Her heart pounding in her chest threatened to explode, blood surging through her veins like molten lava, as she began her frantic search for the man she had avoided almost completely over the past weeks.


	9. Resurfacing

**Disclaimer: **_All things Dark Angel belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee. No copyright infringement intended. Blah, blah, woof, woof_

**Spoilers: **_occurs after "Freak Nation"_

**Rating: **_PG-13 for some swearing and possible dark/adult situations that may arise later, but likely to be quite tame. _

**Summary: **_The arrival of a stranger in Seattle can only mean trouble, right? _

**Authors Note:**_ Okay, this one's a long one, a lot of exposition going on, so it's quite boring. Hang in there though! The next couple of chapters are gonna be ansty, passion filled exciting adventures. It's just gonna take me a while. Hopefully not as long as these chapters have._

_Also, please reserve character assassination judgement 'til the end, there is a reason behind it all._

-

Logan felt himself slowly surface from the cloying depths of darkness. Muted sound began to sharpen around him. A sharp, efficient voice was talking with strained patience to someone large hovering at his side. Gradually, Logan began to feel a tingling sensation course through his body, making him aware once more of his limbs, including, thank God, his legs. Something warm and furry seemed to have enveloped his right hand. The familiar discomfort of an IV lead shifted slightly in his arm.

With effort, he forced his heavy eyelids to open, only to close them again as they were assaulted by a harsh overhead light. He took a deep breath. Blinking his eyes he accustomed himself to his new surroundings. Blurred shapes shifted at first. A large figure loomed over him, coming close to his face. The vague smell of wet dog.

_Joshua_

Speaking. Someone was speaking to him. He blinked once more in an attempt to shake the clouds from his mind. The room swam briefly before coming into sharp relief with a jolt.

He was lying on a gurney in the Med Bay. One of the medics, Senseo perhaps, was standing over the foot of his bed. He shivered as he realised he was lying in only his boxers.

"Logan ok?" the concerned transgenic inquired with child-like innocence.

Logan tried an answer, but all that escaped his lips was a dry croak. He tried once more.

"Hey Joshua", he rasped. "What happened to me", Logan queried as he turned his attention to the gigantic beast. Joshua turned questioningly towards the ice blonde making notes on her flip chart. Senseo swept her eyes over Logan with critical appraisal before turning her sharp eyes on him.

"It seems Mr. Cale, that you picked up a particularly deadly bio-toxin from somewhere in Terminal City" Senseo answered with one eyebrow half raised in a curious gesture. "Tell me, have you ever had a transgenic blood transfusion before?", the medic asked suddenly, turning her full attention towards Logan's prone form.

There was a slight pause before Logan managed to answer.

"Yes, two actually" he replied.

"I should really have been informed of such pertinent medical history before now, Mr. Cale. You would make a very interesting study", Senseo spoke, initially attempting a chastising tone, but unable to cover her inherent curiosity. "However, that is no longer of any importance. Please elaborate for me, exactly how and from whom you received these transfusions", she finished as she moved to sit down on Logan's free side, her eyes brightened in anticipation.

This perplexed Logan slightly; he had assumed that the story of his returned mobility and close relationship with Max would have been a subject of gossip amongst the bored and besieged population over the last couple of months. Apparently he was wrong, maybe his little life was not quite as fascinating as he imagined. Perhaps he had been a little too wrapped up in his own drama to really understand the situation from the rest of the transgenics' point of view.

"Well?", Senseo prompted.

Logan took a deep breath, wondering how or where to start from.

_Oh well, better start from the beginning. _

"About two years ago, I was shot in the back. The bullet shattered into my spine causing irreparable damage, and I was paralysed. Some five months later, a fragment of the remaining bullet migrated and I was rushed to hospital with internal bleeding. I lost a great deal of blood. Being that this is Post-Pulse Seattle, blood supplies were thinly stretched, and my rare blood type meant that it was impossible to source plasma for me. But, Max likes to defy the impossible, and transfused me." Logan broke off to gaze at the overhead light, a gentle smile playing across his lips briefly, before his face became shadowed once more.

"A couple of weeks after that, I got some feeling back in my legs, the hyped-up blood beginning to repair the damage to my spinal chord." Logan turned to look at the young woman again, a short laugh of self-disgust punctuating his next remark. "I even started walking again, I thought I was getting my life back. Thought that I could be my old self once more. But it's never that simple. My body began to reject the stem cells from Max's blood, landing me straight back in the chair again."

There was another pause, both Senseo and Joshua had been listening in rapt attention to him, and it unnerved Logan slightly to have to dredge all this into the open once more. Just because he was walking again didn't lessen the pain of what had happened the first time, nor did it help him forget his fears that it might still occur this time. He had never been one to share, preferring to bottle up what was going on with him, to stay strong, like his father always wanted him to. He had to deal with enough as it was, without reliving his past demons, ones which never really went away, just got pushed further into the shadows.

Senseo was intrigued by Logan. She had always lived with the idea that she was a super-soldier. An advanced creation, surpassing ordinary humans. She, like so many of the transgenics, had always assumed she had suffered more, most of it at the hands of ordinary humans, and dealt with it all with superior strength of character. Because she was better, built to be the best. As an X-6, she had never suffered the flaws of the previous series, and was considered a success.

But now she was beginning to understand a little about the real world. Beyond the lines of hate and war, where ordinary people lived hard lives. It had always been "us" and "them" before. Humans, or "ordinaries", were like some other species. They had been taught to view them like commodities, to be used or disposed of as required. Some held power, and were merely an embodiment of authority. Others were inconsequential. But none of them were _real_. She'd never thought about their lives or feelings, the hardships and injustices they faced, never considered it at all. Why should she? She had never known love or care or any warmth from the Manticore humans. Only fear and pain and hatred.

When the facility had burned, her attitudes had not changed from the brief time she spent in the outside world. She had gone to ground, falling back on her training in dealing with anyone she met. The were pieces in a game. Not real.

But things were changing now. Here she was, trapped inside a bio-hazard garbage dump, with nothing to do but survive. Surrounded by hostility and hate on the outside, she had begun to question herself. Why did the ordinaries hate them so much? Why was it so wrong that they should live when they had been created by ordinaries in the first place? Why were they so angry at them?

Rumours of Logan's involvement in the whole thing had peaked her interest. As had some of the news reports showing pro-transgenic protestors. She had wondered why some ordinaries were different. Why some were willing to stand up and help them, like those that had helped the Jam Pony escape.

Logan's story was one she had not yet managed to discover. There were rumours of some sort of relationship between him and X5-452, or Max, as she was now. But though she had watched them both carefully, she had only been more confused by their behaviour. They seemed to avoid each other at all costs, but occasionally she would spot them gazing at each other, whilst the other was otherwise occupied. There seemed to be a longing in their eyes, a hunger that remained unsatisfied. They didn't even touch.

Joshua was just as spellbound. People often treated him like a simpleton or a child, maybe because they thought as the first one Father created, he was the most flawed, the biggest mistake. They thought he was stupid, and maybe he wasn't as smart as the others, but he wasn't as dumb as they all believed. He could understand things. He was special. Father had taught him that. Father had loved him, in his own way.

Even Max, his first true friend, treated him like a child sometimes. He couldn't help it if he was learning about the world for the first time, seeing it through the eyes of innocence. But it was different now. Now Annie had been taken from him. The world was much colder now, full of hate. But he had to keep hope. That's what Logan said. That's what Logan was.

Joshua wanted Logan to be right, but he didn't know if he could ever really believe that again. Since moving to Terminal City, he had drifted closer to the other nomilies. They were more alike, and could never be accepted like the newer X series, who all looked human. Logan had sought him out though, come to talk to him, had worried about him. Logan had cared for him. Maybe because he was different too, wasn't Manticore. And little fella stayed away from him all the time. Joshua could see that made Logan very sad, but he stayed all the same. Didn't leave with Original Cindy and Sketchy. Little fella had been mad about that, said he would get sick. Logan wouldn't go though, said it was best if he stayed, for all of them. Joshua wasn't sure what he had meant, but had a feeling that it was big, something important.

He had been right. Logan had come to talk to him about how important it was to stop the situation from turning into a bloodbath. That they had to be the ones to show that they weren't monsters, even when the humans outside were the real monsters. Logan had told him a lot about before the Pulse. About how life had been hard in the past too. About racial segregation, ghettos, prejudice. And that no matter what, you had to have hope, that it would get better. You had to keep hold of hope.

They had become friends, and Joshua was going to look after Logan now. He felt proud to have Logan as a friend, and proud that Logan was telling him this now.

Max had only ever glossed over the basics, explained things simply to him. He appreciated that Logan treated him differently. Telling him about complicated things with patience. Like he was more of an equal.

"That was so hard for me, after that brief taste of freedom, I was trapped again. I was stupid and selfish. I didn't realise what I had, only focussed on what I thought I would never have because of that damn chair!" Logan continued angrily. Thinking back made him recall his arrogant self-obsessed pity, something he would rather forget.

He remembered the gun with cold clarity, could picture it all so clearly. He had been going to end it all. To finish what Bruno had started. Life had been too hard. Max, losing his legs again, his accident, his failed marriage, his pathetic excuse for a life. Living vicariously through Eyes Only, hiding from the real world even when he could walk. Losing his mother.

That had brought unbidden images of his father rushing to the fore. His voice chilling as he reprimanded Logan for crying. Saying it was weak. Logan had always been too weak for his father, never good enough. Ironically, it was just this hatred that had stopped him pulling that trigger. He couldn't let his father be right. Then the whole Mrs. Moreno thing happened.

It should have been Max that stopped him. Thoughts of her, of others that might need him. But it wasn't. He was too busy wallowing in his own misery to realise, or care about anyone else. He was weak.

No, he had been weak. He had to be strong now. Like he had been for his mother. Like he was now for Max.

The look on her face when he had come in...

He suddenly realised where he was, the expectant faces of the two transgenics waiting for him to continue.

"But I managed to get over that" Logan continued with a slight derisive tone, mocking himself. "Almost managed to get over myself. Admit my feelings, take a chance. Then Zack found Tinga."

At the brief flash of confusion over both his listeners faces, Logan began to elaborate.

"Tinga was one of the original twelve to escape. She had found a life for herself, discovered the love of a husband and child, before it was all ripped away from her by Manticore. She gave herself up to save those she loved. Zack, the original unit CO, discovered where she had been taken.

"Tinga was hooked up in some kind of twisted experiment. When Max found her, it was too late. Lydecker arrived and captured Max. Apparently he had not been privy to any of this, his position being somewhat usurped by a new superior, Renfro. He got Max out and in turn she brought him to meet up with a TAC team Zack had assembled, including Syl and Krit, two other escapees from '09."

"Then Max went in to take down Manticore."

Logan paused briefly, taking a pre-emptive steadying breath before tackling his tale once more.

"Max wanted to finish it, to finally destroy Manticore and take from them what they had taken from her and her siblings. And with the advantage of having Lydecker to help, it seemed like there was a chance, one she couldn't pass up after Renfro had taken her sister from her."

"I went with them, I had acquired the exo-skeleton by then, allowing me to walk. I was their tech and comm support. The ride to the facility was a silent one, like a dark and ominous cloud hung over us all. When Max got out, it was almost as if she knew it was gonna go sideways."

"Anyway, they got in and destroyed the DNA lab. Then it all started to go wrong. Alarms started going off, I managed to lock Manticore out of their systems, so there was little they could do about it."

"It seemed like they were almost home clear when Krit and Syl piled into the van. But then Max's comm went dead. I ran out blindly searching, and that's when I found her. She'd been shot through the heart by her X-7 clone."

"She died in my arms. Lydecker had to knock me out, I wouldn't leave." Logan finished matter-of-factly, almost coldly.

Senseo looked at Logan carefully as he uttered those detached words. For all purposes he could have been talking about the intricacies of filling in tax returns, but she had been bred to look past such outward appearances and read underlying meanings. It was her skill. Logan did well to block himself off, but she still saw his raw pain, the complete despair that he had obviously been partner to.

"After that, everything is a little sketchy. I don't remember much until two months later. I managed to pull myself together to continue the fight, for Max."

"I put all I had into helping bring Manticore down. To finish what she started" he continued with a determined tone.

Logan paused briefly. He wasn't sure how answering Senseo's question had turned into this. Maybe it had been a subconscious effort to ease his soul, a basic need to finally tell someone the insane tale that his life had become. There was nothing to do but to go on, and try and recall the initial question at the same time.

Shaking his head slightly, Logan went on.

"Then one day, all my hard work paid off. I was ready to expose Manticore and all its ugly secrets to the world. But of course my computer system would choose that precise moment to crash."

Logan sighed briefly before a look of serene joy passed fleetingly across his features. A chuckle escaped his lips as he began again,

"Then, Max just turned up in my doorway, just like she always had before. I thought all my wishes had come true, that life was finally paying me my due."

Silence filled the small, run-down office, settling between them. It stretched out longer than was comfortable, the tale seeming to have exhausted them all.

Logan eventually let out a harsh laugh, before picking up his tale once more.

玓I guess that letting go of fairytale endings even in this post-apocalyptic America is a little harder than I believed. Especially when Manticore plays the evil antagonist so well" he continued with a harsh smile.

"Max thought she had escaped their clutches, hell, we both were too blinded by seeing each other to realise that Manticore had sent _her_ as my assassin. They created a genetically targeted retro-virus specifically to react with only my DNA. The perfect test for a new super bio-weapon."

"That's when I first felt the effects of their nasty little concoction. Things got a little hazy for me after that. Alec showed up to take Max back, telling her that Renfro had a cure."

Logan's jaw became tightly set as he spoke _that_ name. Forcing himself to continue, though Senseo easily picked up his underlying hostility for the X-5. Not entirely sure for the reasons behind his behaviour, she made a mental note to observe this facet more closely from now on.

"She left him tied up with me to guard over him. Unfortunately, I must have passed out shortly after, I don't remember anything else until after. After she came back again. Thinking she had finally finished with Manticore for good, but it had only really started something much bigger."

Logan paused to look at the young medic sitting attentively at his side. It had struck him occasionally, as he watched the other X-series and Nomilies, what they thought about that. He knew some resented what Max had done. Forced them into a world they knew little of, a world which didn't want them, where they were outcasts, freaks. Away from what they had always known, even if that had been harsh torture, a life so devoid of love, of freedom, he couldn't begin to understand. As much as they might not understand what was so wonderful about an outside world so bereft of everything now, wracked by poverty and disease, corruption and basic human rights. He could only hope that their struggle now might make it all the more worthwhile for them. Make them realise their new found freedom was something better, something...

A slight noise by the doorway stopped Logan's train of thought abruptly. All three turned their heads to discover Max pausing at the doorway. She looked pale, her mouth agape in shock, her features twisted in confused outrage.

"Max" Logan tentatively queried .

"How could you?", she replied shakily.

-

_So, what do you think? Any good? Or complete rubbish?_

_I know that Logan spilling the whole story seems a little unlike his character, but I thought that he needed to unburden himself a little. Everyone needs to get stuff off their chest once in a while, and I reckon that Logan must have felt a little lonely trapped in TC without Bling or Sebastian to talk to._

_Bye for now, I'm afriad it'll probably be a while, and I can't promise that you'll like the twist in the tale to come, but promise ML angst and possibly fluffy bunnies at the end. Whenever that is?_


End file.
